


Flight Deck -- Short Story

by PrincessGoose



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28813740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessGoose/pseuds/PrincessGoose
Summary: TW: Mental healthI wanted to explore what it might be like for Shepard in the middle of ME2 dealing with the trauma of her past.
Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian
Comments: 10
Kudos: 15





	Flight Deck -- Short Story

Shepard woke with a start drenched in sweat. She looked around in a panic, the sheets twisted tightly around her. After a breath, she released the tension in her shoulders and closed her eyes for the exhale. When she opened them, she jumped in surprise- her arms were outstretched in front of her, her fingers wrapped tightly around her pistol, hovering over the trigger.

She set the gun down softly, her panic rising again. When had she grabbed it? In her sleep? Or without realizing it as she woke? Either option made her feel extremely uneasy. Shepard tried to focus on her breathing--in through the nose and out through the mouth like Chakwas instructed.

After a few moments of unsuccessfully attempting to calm her heart rate, she gave up. Running a hand through her short brown hair, Shepard swung her legs off the side of her bed and untangled herself from the sheet restraints, making her way to the bathroom; her bare feet made soft padding noises as she walked across the cold flooring. Shepard avoided any glances in the glass on her way, not wanting to catch any reflection of herself.

“God, I’m losing it,” she whispered, death-gripping the edge of the sink. Turning on the faucet, she let the water run for a long time, just enjoying the white noise. The metaphorical weight of the galaxy sat uncomfortably on her back, sinking its claws slowly but unavoidably into her shoulder blades. 

She dunked her head under the rushing water and debated letting the water drown her, but only for a moment. Without glancing up at the mirror, Shepard reached over for a towel. Smothering her face into the polyester fabric, it smelled like a mix of cheap lemon scented cleaner and lavender laundry detergent--the former making her stomach churn. The laundry was typically done near the Med-Bay, hence the smell of cleaner. Every time the sterile lemon scent hit her nose, Shepard could feel a sort of pseudo-pain, almost as if her body was bracing for a wound worthy of a visit to the medical ward.

Shepard set the towel down, slightly disgusted, and walked out of the bathroom.

Her room was dimly lit with the back-light from her fish tank, the only other light being her alarm clock, the light orange glow illuminating the current time on the ceiling. Early. Too early. Definitely too early to start work, but not early enough to promise any more sleep.

Shepard sighed, crossing her arms across her chest--realizing for the first time as her arms brushed against the fabric that she had fallen asleep in her workout clothes. Again. 

Goddamn mess, you are.

In one swift movement, she slipped her shirt off, tossing it onto the floor and kicking it under the bed. Deciding to get dressed for the day, Shepard finally dared a glance in the glass display after throwing on a fresh shirt.

It was both a comfort and an annoyance that she looked the same as the day before--bags under her eyes, hair slightly less than put together and stress lines continuing to grow comfortable on her brow. But, it was no worse than any other time she checked, which was a small achievement at least. 

Nodding to no one in particular, Shepard turned away from the mirror and tied up her unmanageable hair into a bun. The hallway doors opened up at her approach and she padded her way into the elevator.

The Normandy was best suited for the quiet, the hum of the engine below being the only real sound Shepard could hear--and she loved it. The crew--her friends--energized her. Kept her focused in battle and while in command, but sometimes she needed the silence. But, even so, she didn’t feel alone, especially now that EDI had joined them.

The Normandy had a presence, a true being that surrounded her and the crew like a comfortable embrace after a long day. Or night, in this case. The elevator descended to the bridge and Shepard took a moment to ground herself, the anxiety spike from mere minutes ago still running through her mind. 

“Five things, four touches, three sounds, two smells, one taste…” Shepard whispered aloud, remembering the lesson Doctor Chakwas had tried to instill upon her. Stress levels for any soldier could be unmanageable at best, but Shepard knew it was only getting worse. She only had so many bandages, and they were all beginning to unravel.

The elevator doors slid open revealing the open hall of the bridge. Shepard looked around the large expanse, not used to seeing it so empty. 

“Exit lights, galaxy map,” Shepard whispered to herself as she stepped out of the elevator, the doors closing quietly behind her. “Navigation panel, Kelly’s terminal, my terminal…” Her voice trailed off as she looked around. Reaching her hand out, she gently ran her fingers over her keyboard. Keyboard, desk, terminal, galaxy pannel… She grazed her hand over each object, moving down her checklist. Next, she listened. 

The hum of the Normandy, the small yet persistent groaning of metal as it settles in flight… She paused, not sure of another sound. Damn, Chakwas. This therapy was meant to help her, but it always ended up as a test, one Shepard didn’t like losing or even playing for that matter.

Oh, she thought. There it is. 

The sound of my heart beating. That was, in the moment, more annoying than it was touching, but it was a box ticked, and that was enough for now. 

“Two smells…” 

That one was easier. The flight deck always smelled of rubber due to the sheer amount of it on the floors and hallways. But second… The thought made Shepard flush for a moment, but it didn’t make her answer any less true.

My body. 

That wasn’t to imply that she smelled bad, but there is a certain smell that everyone has after just waking from a deep sleep. Hard to describe and different for everyone, but that musty… almost “warm” smell. It was there. Maybe not pugently, but present--radiating softly off of Shepard’s clothing. 

“Taste…” Shepard whispered aloud as she stood at the helm of the galaxy map. She glanced behind her just as the elevator door slid open. Shepard, startled, stepped down quickly from her podium, almost like she was a child caught in the act of something mischievous.

“Oh, hey Shepard. Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” Garrus stepped out of the elevator, walking past her out onto the bridge. 

Blood.

Damnit, she had bit her tongue from the jump Garrus had given her. 

“Isn’t it a little early for you to be on the bridge?” Shepard asked, placing her hand on the counter to steady herself.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said coyly, his back to her as he continued toward the front of the ship.

Even after a year, Shepard could still feel a small jolt of fear whenever she saw a turian, and Garrus was rarely an exception. She wondered if she would ever truly get over it, but she had to remind herself that this was Garrus, the best soldier she had ever fought alongside and had the driest humor on the Normandy. Something she always appreciated. 

“Shepard?” Oh no, she had been staring.

“Sorry, you lost me for a second,” she said apologetically, putting her hand on her forehead. “It’s been a rough night. Sorry, Garrus.”

“Nothing to worry about, Shepard,” he dismissed, turning away from her and back toward the cockpit. “I’ve been there.” He paused and glanced back to her. “You ever wonder what it might be like to sit in Joker’s chair?” Tantalizing, mischievous.

His smirk was hilariously irresponsible and she couldn’t help but smile back.

“Come on.” He motioned for Shepard to follow him. “I’ve only done this a few times, seeing as the man almost never sleeps anyway, and EDI has been threatening to tell on me, but no way she would tattle on you.”

“Don’t tempt me, Garrus,” EDI’s voice warned over the speakers. It was slightly unnerving, knowing that EDI was always listening but Shepard swore she could hear a smile in EDI’s voice--she was enjoying this as much as they were.

“Guess we have to be quick about it, then,” Garrus said in a whisper.

The two entered the cockpit, the full view windows spread out 180 degrees around them. Planets and stars spanned out all around, making Shepard feel extremely small. But this view was why she was here in the first place-the never ending hunger for adventure and exploration.

“It’s more comfortable than it looks,” Garrus commented as he spun Joker’s chair around to face her. “But only slightly.”

Shepard smirked and moved to sit down. She could feel the mold of Joker’s body in the seat, which made her smile. She was there when he first sat behind the controls. They’d all come so far--travelled so far from Sol. 

Proud. The word resonated through her mind. Her heart hurt thinking that there might come a time where she wouldn’t be here with her crew. The longing and sense of imminent sorrow gripped her heart, mourning something that had not yet come to fruition.

“Okay, now for the fun part.” Garrus’ voice pulled her out of her mind and without any further warning, spun her quickly around so she was facing forward, the entire universe sprawled out around her.

It took her breath away, again. Almost by instinct, her hands reached up to grip the manual steering joysticks, but she hesitated in mid air, not wanting to mess with any of the systems.

“No, it’s okay,” Garrus said, kneeling down next to her. “EDI is still in control, so the manual sticks won’t actually move anything… You can’t break her,” he added after a moment when Shepard continued to hesitate. She looked over at Garrus, trying now to convey how unsure she truly was. This was the first time she’d ever been eye level with the turian, or any turian for that matter. God, he was so close too. She could see the texture of his rough skin bumping up beneath his blue facial markings and the quick but subtle flickering of movement on his visor. His stare was intense but not demanding--a gentle yearning for a shared adventure, and a promise that he would be there if something happened, to pick her up if she faltered. 

Her heart fluttered and her breath caught in her throat.

Garrus laughed. “Don’t look at me like that, Shepard. You can do this.” He, thankfully, mistook her momentary fear as fear of flight rather than the sudden rush of conflicting emotions.

Shepward reached out for the controls, maintaining a rigid death grip. She looked back out at the expanse of space right in front of her. The mere thought of aliens was nothing more than fiction about 50 odd years ago. And now, here she was, “steering” a ship (her ship) with an “alien” companion next to her, friend even. 

There was never really time to pause and reflect on that--simply accept and move on. But god, what would her life be like now without this rag-tag crew?

“Garrus, I-” she wanted to tell him how much she appreciated him, to apologize for her previous misconceptions and hesitations, to thank him for the never ending loyalty, willingness to lend an ear to listen, and for always watching her six. But the turian cut her off with a laugh.

“Shepard, you’re whiter than a blanket, let me help.” He reached over, leaning in close to wrap his hands around hers. She didn’t know what to say as Garrus slowly guided the controls back and forth. “See? You won’t damage anything.”

“Garrus, I believe the saying you were looking for was ‘whiter than a sheet’,” EDI interjected over the comms.

“Ah, yes! That’s it,” he shouted his excitement into Shepard’s ear. “Sorry, Shepard,” he added after noticing her slight wince out of the corner of his eye.

“Happy for you, truly,” she said with only a tiny bit of sarcasm.

He chuckled at that, the sound coming from the back of his throat like a two-toned pur. “Alright, Shepard. I have full confidence in your abilities.” he took his hands off of hers, the sudden lack of heat making her hands feel strangely exposed.

“Yeah,” she said, feigning confidence. “I got this.” Her words came out closer to a whisper than she had intended, but nevertheless, she took an unsteady breath and slowly moved the joysticks around.

The Normandy continued her normal trajectory, the direction unmoving even as Shepard continued to move the sticks.

“See? Not so ba-”

“Autopilot malfunction, averting controls to manual systems.” EDI’s voice cut Garrus off as Shepard froze, an immediate sweat covering her entire body. Panic locked her arms and she looked over to Garrus, her eyes pleading for help. 

For a small moment, they both sat frozen, mouths agape, unsure of what procedure would be applicable in this situation. 

“I’m kidding,” EDI’s voice barely cut through Shepard’s sudden tunnel vision. “But I really do wish I could’ve taken a picture of your faces. Jeff would’ve loved that.”

“Damnit, EDI,” Garrus sighed, all the terror and frustration coming out in both words. Shepard didn’t even realize that she had been holding her breath until she let it out, taking her hands off the controls at the same time, her palms making a quiet slap sounds as they landed on her thighs.

“You okay, Shepard?” Garrus asked after a few moments of silence.

She chuckled a bit at the notion. Looking over at Garrus, she fully intended to respond to him, to reassure him that she was fine, not as fragile as he seemed to think, but the true concern on his face made her smile, and then laugh, and then she was laughing so hard she was on the verge of tears. 

“I’ve--I’ve never been… I’ve never been so close to praying than--than I have in that moment.” She stuttered out her thoughts between laughs. “God, we both froze on that one didn’t we?” She wiped away a nonexistent tear and looked back over at him, a quizzical expression in his eyes but a smile on his face.

“Look, I’ve done this at least three times, but EDI’s never pulled that shit on me until now, so next time I’ll be sure to read up on the ‘What to do when your Commander illegally takes the helm of the ship and then the AI decides to mess with her and pretend she’s in control’ manual.” 

“Thanks, Garrus.” Shepard looked back down at her hands, fiddling with her finger. “I should go,” she added after a few moments. 

Time was weird on the Normandy--there was no day/night cycle outside. So, it could be hard to tell what time it truly was. But, the lights along the walkway were slowly brightening, so it would only be a matter of time before the rest of the crew would be up and about. 

“Would you like me to walk you back up?” Garrus asked as she spun the chair around.

“Only if you give me a turuan fun fact on the ride up the elevator.” She was only half kidding as she said it, but a memory gripped her for a moment--her, Garrus and Wrex, all jammed into the small Citadel elevators, her two boys and their back-and-forth banter. Finding Saren, the beacon, all of that seemed so long ago, a much simpler time. 

She wanted him to say yes, to hold onto that memory for one more second.

“Gee, Shepard. There’s nothing really ‘fun’ about turians, but I can try.” The dry humor, very fitting.

“Come on, then. I wouldn’t want Joker finding us here-”

“Oh, I’m sure he’d be fine with you behind the wheel, but me? I’d be thrown out of the airlock along with ‘the stick up my ass’.” 

“Exactly. I can’t lose my best soldier.”

Shepard could feel his eyes on the back of her head as they walked down the strip to the elevator. 

Why did I say that, she found herself thinking. It was the second time she almost let too much slip out. She meant it, but it was her job to maintain completely nonpartisan and focus on the suicide mission swiftly approaching. God, I’m just so damn tired. 

It was an excuse, one she would continue telling herself until she had time to actually sit and digest her thoughts. Which will be never.

Shepard pressed the call button, slightly uncomfortable in her own skin for the time being. Garrus remained silent next to her, the two entering the elevator lift as the doors slid open to greet them.

A through hit her as she pressed the elevator button to select her quarters. “Are you always up around this time? You seem to have quite a few adventures like this under your belt already.”

“Not frequently,” he admitted, shrugging his shoulders. “Sometimes there’s just a lot on my mind, hard to lay still in bed, so I walk around... bug EDI sometimes.” 

“Nightmares?” Shepard inquired.

Garrus shrugged again, dismissing it.

“I assume that’s why you were up?” He asked as the doors slid open to reveal the entry-way to her quarters.

Shepard shrugged back, giving him a quick smirk as she stepped out of the lift.

“This is my stop,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest as she turned to face Garrus, still standing in the tiny elevator space.

“I guess I’ll have to give you that fun fact another time,” Garrus said as the doors began to close.

“I’ll hold you to it,” Shepard smiled--the last of Garrus disappearing behind the doors, part of her heart going down with him.


End file.
